


Jack Zimmermann versus the Kiss Cam

by S_M_F



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon-Compliant, Canon-Typical Drug Use, Canon-typical language, M/M, POV Multiple, Post-3.26, a very rosy view of what happens after The Kiss 2.0, background tater/ransom, camilla knew first, making fun of Buffalo sports teams, random trivia about the Buffalo Bisons, references to real sports teams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-02 07:56:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13313847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_M_F/pseuds/S_M_F
Summary: 5 times Jack (mostly) hated the Kiss Cam and one time he didn’t.





	1. June 1993

**Author's Note:**

> It’s surprisingly hard to come up with six plausible kiss cam situations to put one poor anxious French Canadian into.
> 
> Tags, characters, and pairings will be updated as chapters are posted.
> 
> *****  
> All characters belong (of course) to Ngozi Okazu. CP is her sandbox; she just lets the rest of us play in it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alicia and Jack take in a Stanley Cup game in 1993.

Alicia Zimmermann took a deep breath and opened her eyes. It was the second game of the finals, and the Penguins were up by two goals on Chicago, Bob having scored the second of those. The game was obviously far from over, but she could at least try to enjoy it.

“MAMA!!!! Look!” Two year old Jack pointed to the center ice scoreboard, which, unbeknownst to Alicia, was featuring the two of them on the Kiss Cam.

She laughed, kissed her son’s cheek, and said, “Je t’aime, mon coeur.” 

Bob caught her eye, grinned, and mouthed, “Je vous adore!” before skating off to confer with his teammates on the bench.

Play resumed and Alicia and hoped that her son would want to be anything but a hockey player, even though Bob had put him in skates as soon as he’d learned to stand on his own and the boy seemed to love it already.


	2. August 2008

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just before they start their second season in the Q, Kent and Jack go to a football game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Alouettes are Montreal’s Canadian Football League team. I know nothing about the CFL other than that it exists and that two of the teams are the Alouettes and the Toronto Argonauts.
> 
> CW for an outsider view of a panic attack - see end notes for details.

Jack and Kent had gone home to Montreal — well, technically they had gone to JACK’S home, but it felt like home to Kent, too, now — for the couple of days they had off before their regular season started. Bored one afternoon, they noticed that the Alouettes had a home game, so they wandered down to Molson Stadium and bought the cheapest nosebleed tickets they could get. 

Kent didn’t really pay much attention to the game; instead, he watched his … fuckbuddy? secret lover? boyfriend? … watching the game. For all that he claimed not to understand or care about football, Jack was as quietly intense about watching the game taking place far below them as he was about studying tape, or his school work, or (Kent hoped) Kent.

Play on the field had stopped and Jack was busy speculating about the team’s strategy, so neither of the boys was aware that the big screen in the end zone was showing crowd shots, nor did they notice when it turned into the Kiss Cam. It was only when a camera operator materialized three rows below them that either of them looked up to see their own larger-than-life-size faces, turned towards each other, framed by dancing hearts and animated kissy lips. Kent saw Jack’s eyes go cold and knew he had to get them out of the situation as quickly as possible, so he did the first thing that popped into his head: looked straight at the camera, rolled his eyes, and flipped off the entire stadium, earning himself a mixture of cheers and boos for his effort.

As soon as the videographer moved on, Kent leaned in and whispered to Jack. “Let’s get out of here, Zimms. You go first and wait for me… I’ll be right behind you.” Jack nodded, then got unsteadily to his feet. Kent watched him climb the steps and hoped no-one else could tell how badly Jack was shaking.

When Kent rounded the corner, he found Jack crouched against the wall. “Why would they DO that?” Jack asked, his breath coming rapidly. “Those ASSHOLES! Why can’t they leave me the FUCK ALONE!!!!” Jack bolted, leaving Kent to chase after him. Lucky for Kent, Jack was a creature of habit and all stadiums and arenas were laid out more or less the same, so even after the black hair disappeared around a series of bends and down the stairs, Kent was easily able to locate the loading dock and Jack sitting next to the door, his back against the wall.

“Zimms, hey. Hey, Zimms.” Kent hesitated for a moment, then sat down against the door, his thigh pressed against Jack’s, keeping an eye out for cameras, or fans, or anyone, really.

“I just… tabernac. I just want to be able to go to a fucking football game with my friends and not get hounded by the cameras. What the hell was that, putting us on Kiss Cam?”

“Shhh…. they didn’t mean anything by it. Some stupid intern was just goofing around.” Jack’s breathing was beginning to slow. “They won’t be able to use the footage for anything, anyway - I flipped the whole place the bird!”

Kent was gratified when Jack let out a quiet chuckle at that revelation. "Thanks, Kenny." They sat quietly for a few more minutes, just breathing and then Kent stood, took Jack by both hands, and pulled him to his feet.

“C’mon, Jack, let’s go home and eat some of your leftover birthday cake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RE Panic attack / Jack’s anxiety. In this story, he and Kent are caught on Kiss Cam when they’re 18 which leads to Jack having a panic attack and fleeing the scene. The narrative is from Kent’s point of view and Jack is able to calm down pretty quickly.
> 
> In canon we mostly see Jack’s anxiety portrayed as being inwardly-focused, but I don’t think it’s out of the question that teenage Jack’s panic attacks might manifest as a combination of rage and flight. Teenage hormones and all that.


	3. January 2013

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shitty and a hand-held video camera. What could possibly go wrong?

It shouldn’t have surprised Shitty that, as soon as he moved into the Haus, he fell into the role of Party Czar, Coordinator of Kegsters, SMH Member Generally In Charge of Fun and Hijinks. Johnson had said as much to him when Adams had given Shitty his dibs the previous spring. “It’s necessary for the plot, man. Don’t turn your nose up at seemingly weird gifts from friends, either… they’re important for others’ character development.” Shitty had assumed that it was because they were both high at the time.

And now, here they were, at the Start-of-Spring Kegster that had led off with the SMH Re-Gift Exchange. Lardo had received a betta fish that she immediately named George; Ransom and Holster had somehow jointly received an antique ice cream maker (“It’ll make sense in a couple of years, guys, I promise,” explained Johnson). And Shitty had received a brand new, sealed-in-the-box Flip camera from Jack.

“My great-aunt Marge gave it to me … she thought I would use it when I was coaching…I never did.” Jack shrugged a little sheepishly and Shitty could not let that stand. 

“You glorious Canadian moose, I love it!” With that he dove at Jack, tackling him onto the couch and spilling beer all over both of them.

“Ugh, Shits, come on.” Jack struggled out from underneath his friend. “Now I have to go change.”

“YOU KNOW I’M JUST GOING TO GET YOU WET AGAIN LATER!” Shitty called as Jack disappeared up the stairs.

That had been three hours and many cups of tub-juice ago and, as far as Shitty could tell, Jack had not re-emerged from his room. Shitty and Lardo were cooling down on the front porch while he played with the various settings on the camera.

“Oh my sweet baby Jesus, Lardo. Lards, LOOK AT THIS!” Shitty waved the camera excitedly in her face. 

“Dude, I can’t see a fucking thing, hold it still!”

Shitty couldn’t contain his excitement so he handed his new toy over to Lardo while he continued to bounce up and down.

“It’s a … Kiss Cam?” she asked, cocking a skeptical eyebrow.

“IT’S A FUCKING KISS CAM! COME ON LET’S GET HIM!” With that, Shitty charged through the front door and up the stairs, bellowing “ZIMMERMANN YOU’RE GOING TO BE ON THE KISS CAM IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO!!!!!!!” He burst through Jack’s door and slid to stop.

“What….?”

“KISS CAM!!!!!!!” Shitty bellowed, while at the same time holding the camera at arm’s length and smashing his mustached face into Jack’s cheek.

“CRISSE! Shitty! Ugh, whose idea was it to let you have that thing?” Jack shoved him away, laughing, at the same time that Lardo, Ransom, Holster, and Johnson piled into Jack’s room. 

“HAHA! J’accuse, mon petit fromage! IT WAS NONE OTHER THAN YOU AND YOUR LOVE FOR OUTDATED TECHNOLOGY!”

Jack looked straight into the camera and deadpanned, “I regret so many things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually did receive a betta fish at a white elephant gift exchange once, and I actually did name it George. George was a good fish.
> 
> As near as I can tell, I completely made up the existence of the “kiss cam” feature on the Flip cameras. But my ancient flip phone had dorky frames that you could put around selfies, so that’s probably where the idea came from. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. April 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just after signing with Providence, Jack joins Camilla to watch a tennis tournament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why does a minor ATP tour event have a kiss cam? BECAUSE THE CONCEIT OF THIS FIC DEMANDS IT, THAT'S WHY.
> 
> (this chapter is totally the weak link in the story.)

“Phew! I can’t believe the food line was so long!” Camilla flopped back into her seat next to Jack and handed over a basket of chicken tenders and french fries. “You know, you’re not going to be able to eat these all the time when you’re a big-shot NHL star…”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. No endless supplies of chicken tenders in the dining hall, but no temptation of Bittle’s baking in the kitchen all the time, either,” Jack replied.

“Do I hear a bit of remorse in your voice?” Camilla was aiming for teasing, but she really was curious about Jack’s feelings for his Haus-mate, and confronting him directly would never get results. “It’s not like Providence is THAT far away.”

Jack shrugged and sighed quietly. “Hey, didn’t you beat this girl last year?”

Camilla chose not to acknowledge the blatant change of subject — she knew it meant she was right, and she would wheedle the details out of Jack in time. “Yeah, she only played NCAA for a couple of years and then decided to go pro.”

“She’s good.”

“She’s actually improved a lot. I think she’s gained five miles an hour on her serve since last spring, and put a lot more spin on her shots. See that one?” Camilla dissected the match in front of them for a couple of minutes while Jack munched on his lunch, listening intently, occasionally asking questions.

“You can’t just watch a sport without analyzing it, can you?” she eventually asked.

Jack shrugged again. “There’s always something to learn. Winning is winning.”

“No wonder they call you the hockey robot,” Camilla chuckled. “It’s a wonder anybody ever manages to crack that surface.”

“Oh! Speaking of cracking surfaces!”

Here it comes, Camilla thought.

“Bittle was experimenting last week… he somehow managed to make a hybrid of creme brûlée and tarte au sucre. It was…” Jack trailed off, a faraway look in his eyes. “He was just so proud of himself.” 

“Yeah?”

“I guess it’s really hard to balance getting the middle of the tarte to set enough without cooking the top so much that it comes out too hard after you caramelize it? The first couple of tries were total disasters… one was completely raw in the middle, the other was harder than a puck.” Jack chuckled. “He tried to get me to gnaw on that one like I used to do with Papa’s game pucks. He wanted to put it on Twitter. The third one was edible, at least… I thought it was fine but he wasn’t happy with the flavors, so then he added more vanilla and I think some hazelnut extract? Something like that, and that was the version he ended up being happy with.”

Camilla just listened, growing more and more amused as Jack rambled on.

‘…and he said he was going to post the recipe to his vlog but of course we’ll never know if he actually does it, because he STILL refuses to let any of us know how to find it. Did you know that he actually cut off Shitty’s pie privileges for a week because he found out he’d been searching for recipes on YouTube?” 

“He didn’t. Does he actually have it in him to be that cruel? He always seems so nice to everyone!” No, Camila wasn’t above blatant fishing.

“Ha! You have no idea. He does this thing where it SEEMS like he’s being really nice but if you pay attention he’s really very snarky.”

She couldn’t resist anymore. “Been paying attention, have you?”

“I mean, he lives across the hall, and I do my homework in the kitchen sometimes, and he talks kind of constantly so it’s not hard to figure out what he means.”

Camilla just shook her head and changed the subject back to the tennis match. “See what she did there? The way she sent her backhand all the way into the corner?”

“Yeah, it’s like catching the goalie off-balance. Told you there’s always something to learn.”

With that winner, the set ended and the players went to their seats to take a drink and check their rackets. The kiss cam came up on the big screen and Jack groaned. “I hate those things… they always seem to find me.”

As if the camera operator could hear him, there they were, on the screen. Camilla shook her head and gave Jack a peck on the cheek.

“Jack, dear, I think you’d find that you’d hate them less if you let yourself enjoy things that aren’t hockey.”

Jack just looked at her quizzically.


	5. March 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tater is a good bro.

The Falconers were, to put it kindly, beating the living shit out of the Sabres. With six minutes left in the third period, the home team was down by four goals and First Niagara Center was half-empty — all but the most loyal Buffalo fans had long since given up and gone home.

Tater came off the ice as a TV time out was called and flopped down next to Jack on the bench. “Zimmboni! We are having such good game! You have so much to tell Little B when you talk later!” He followed the declaration with admittedly very juvenile kissy noises and faces and was pleased to hear Jack chuckle; the poor guy had been so afraid of how the team would react to his coming out and - to be honest - Tater had worried quite a bit, too.

And then, much to Tater’s surprise and dismay, Thirdy elbowed him in the ribs and pointed to the Jumbotron at center ice. Tater’s ribbing of Jack had caught the attention of someone from the camera crew and was being replayed on the Kiss Cam. Even worse, it faded to a live shot of the bench and Tater saw Jack’s eyes grow wide. There was only one thing to do. He took his giant gloved hands, grabbed Jack’s face, and planted the wettest, sloppiest kiss he could muster on his friend’s cheek. What little crowd remained in the arena went wild and the rest of the Falconers rolled their eyes. When he pulled away, Tater whispered, “I hide your face with mine so nobody see you being scared.”

“Thanks,” Jack said quietly, and turned his focus back to the coaches, who were outlining their plans for the remaining few minutes of play.

“Maybe someday…” Tater thought wistfully as the teams took the ice again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RE the Sabres. They really are that terrible. Second-worst-in-the-NHL at the time of this posting terrible. (They were admittedly a LITTLE better in the 2015-2016 season, but not much.)


	6. August 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMH and the Falconers go to a minor league baseball game.

In August, the whole SMH crew descended on Jack and Bitty’s apartment in honor of their favorite Stanley Cup Champion’s 26th birthday. On Sunday morning, Holster was sprawled half on the couch and half on Ransom, poking at his phone when he bellowed, “YOU GUYS! The PawSox are playing Buffalo this weekend! I LOVE THE BISONS WE HAVE TO GO!”

Ransom’s voice came, muffled, from somewhere in the neighborhood of Holster’s left calf. “Since when do you even like baseball?”

“Since always! My family always goes to Star Wars Night! Celery has never won the Wing Race! I WAS THERE WHEN BUSTER MARRIED BELLE.”

Bitty peered around the corner from the kitchen. “Wing race?”  
“Chyeah! Hot wing, chicken wing, celery, and blue cheese race from center field to home plate! Celery always loses!"

“If you want, sugar; see if there are still tickets available.”

“YESSSSS!” Holster bellowed as Bitty went back to the kitchen. At that moment, Jack wandered into the room with his phone in his hand. 

“Tater wants to know what we’re doing today…”

Ransom bolted upright and Holster landed on the floor with a thump and a groan. “We’re going to the PawSox game! Does he want to come?”

From Jack’s phone came Tater’s tinny voice. “RANDY! Hello! Yes, I come to baseball game with Samwell Men’s Hockey! We will have much fun!” 

And so the plan was made, and that evening Jack and Bitty were joined by Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, Holster, Tater, Snowy, and the St. Martins who had managed to secure a baby-sitter at the last minute.

It wasn’t actually a particularly good baseball game. The Bisons scored several runs early while Pawtucket’s bats had apparently forgotten to show up at the ballpark. The SMH crew, seated right behind the home team’s dugout, wrestled, shouted, and generally enjoyed themselves regardless of the game happening on the field. By the middle of the fourth inning, Buffalo was up by four runs and Holster was gloating about the superiority of his hometown team to anyone who would listen (which wasn’t very many people, but that had never stopped him before). 

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Jack noticed the Falconers logo on the big screen in right field. He braced himself for what he knew was coming next… video of the Stanley Cup winning shot. All things considered, he thought, it was kind of a miracle that someone from the Sox organization hadn’t noticed them earlier, considering how few people were in the park and how much attention SMH were drawing to themselves. 

He never could have predicted what came next, though. The video cutting to Jack, surrounded by his friends and teammates was kind of a foregone conclusion. But when the “Kiss Cam” border appeared on-screen a half-second later and the camera zoomed in on Jack and Bitty, there was only one thing to do. Jack took Bitty’s face in his hands and pressed their lips together, gently, quietly, while the fans erupted in cheers and started chanting ZIM-MER-MANN! ZIM-MER-MANN!

Jack and Bitty were too engrossed in each other and (most of) the rest of their group were too busy in screaming “FOOOOOINNNNEEEE” and/or making complete asses of themselves to notice Tater softly press his lips to Ransom’s temple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RE the Buffalo Bisons. I can’t believe I didn’t hear Holster celebrating at the game when Buster and Belle got married - I was there, too. Star Wars Night is really a thing and it sells out every year, even if the “Star Wars” videos and the light saber battle on the field after the game are cheesy as hell. Celery retired from racing at the end of the 2017 season, with a 1-449 record. They won their last race.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Thank the Cameras](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13334187) by [softkent (SalazarTipton)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalazarTipton/pseuds/softkent)




End file.
